Disclaimer: I don't own Buffy the Vampire Slayer, but Joss said we can play in his little world, so I am. No profit for me, though. "That Kind of Woman" is Stevie Nicks. Credit for that goes to her.

Rating: NC-17 (I tried to get Spike to keep his clothes on. He refused. Oh well.)

Spoilers: Technically this is season 2, but the timeline's all wonky, so I'm not sure how much of it is really spoilery. Still, I suppose you've all seen at least the first two seasons, so we should be good.

Author's Note: Thanks again to Niamh for sending this little plot bunny after me, albeit inadvertently. I know the summary kinda sucks, but I didn't want to give much away. Read it, and it'll make sense.

Also, this fic has some dark spots in it. Spike is very much still the Big Bad. So if you like your Spike well on the path to redemption, parts of this fic will not be your cuppa. But if you like Spike acting, well, like a vampire, then read on.


*** *** ***

Temptation falls in your path
No hesitation why you ask
You have another waiting at home
And yes she matters to you
Kind of woman that'll haunt you

You didn't mean to meet her you cry
Oh but the sun goes down every night
She came to you when you were alone
And yes she matters to you
Kind of woman that'll haunt you
She matters to you

I promised myself a long time ago
It would be difficult to let you go
If not at least within
The touch of my fingers
It was close to being
In heaven
Kind of woman that'll haunt you
To being in heaven
Kind of woman that'll haunt you
Is to be...in heaven
Kind of woman that'll haunt you
I know I know



*** *** ***

If Spike hadn't hated the Slayer after she'd managed to best him on the night of the Feast of St. Vigeous, then he surely hated her now. He could hear Drusilla moaning in pleasure, and it wasn't for him. She had her precious "Daddy" now, and Spike felt like nothing more than a discarded plaything.

For a century, he had existed outside the shadow of Angelus. Dru had been his only, no overbearing sire trying to reclaim his childe. But the careless act of one Slayer had ruined it for him. She had to go and make the brooding wanker happy. Bloody bitch.

As Drusilla's moans turned into screams, Spike decided he'd had enough. He stormed out of the mansion in search of something to kill. Maybe he'd get lucky and find the Slayer. If he came back with her head on a stick, Dru would have to accept him for the monster he was and give up the ponce who'd rather love a Slayer than kill her.

Spike had never quite understood what Angel had seen in that Slayer anyway. She was certainly no great beauty. Not ugly, but just…plain. She didn't have much of a spark to her either. Not like that Slayer he'd fought in New York. Now that Slayer he could understand wanting a good tumble with. But the Slayer here in Sunnydale? Good fighter sure, but not worth becoming some brooding, whipped git over.

Spike made his way towards that club all the young people of the Hellmouth seemed so fond of. He tried to remember the name. Oh right, the Bronze. That was it. Damn silly name for a club if you asked him. The Bronze what? Still, there was always some intoxicated girl stumbling around just waiting to be his dinner. A bit like shooting fish in a barrel, but right now he just wanted a kill to take the edge off.

It wasn't long until Spike was leading his dinner for the evening into the back alley. The first flash of his demon face made her scream, and Spike covered her mouth even as he relished the sound. Fear made the blood taste so much sweeter.

Spike had just sunk his fangs into the girl's neck when he felt a new presence in the alley. He stopped drinking, closing the girl's nose to stop her whimpers so he could hear better.

"You might want to consider dropping the girl. I mean, I'm going to dust you either way, but I may make it a little less painful if you let her go now."

Spike did release the girl, although not because he'd been told to. He wanted to see the chit who was dumb enough to threaten him. When he turned and saw a small blonde girl who couldn't be much more than sixteen glaring at him, her arms crossed in front of her, he almost laughed. Probably would have if she hadn't just caused his meal to get away. "Y'know, pet, it's not polite to interrupt a bloke when he's having dinner. Unless of course, you're offering another entrée." He looked her up and down, then ran his tongue over his teeth suggestively.

"The only thing I'm offering you is an end to your worthless existence."

Spike wondered who exactly this girl thought she was. Did she not get the memo that this town already had a Slayer and wasn't in need of a little girl who dusted vamps for fun? "I have a feeling that isn't going to happen. See, killing girls who wander into dark alleys—it's what I do."

"Yeah, and dusting evil vampires—it's what I do. And you, William the Bloody, are a vampire I've wanted to kill for a long time."

His smirk faltered a little at that. She knew who he was? "Didn't know we were acquainted," he replied.

"We're not." The girl raised a crossbow, and Spike's eyes widened. How had he missed she was carrying that? Probably because you were too busy checking her out, a little voice in the back of his mind supplied. Yeah, that was why.

She fired the weapon, the bolt narrowly missing his heart. Spike pulled it out of his chest and snapped it in two, letting the pieces clatter to the dirty ground. "See, now you've gone and made me mad."

Her fear was almost imperceptible as she reloaded the crossbow, but Spike knew it was there. He advanced on her with inhuman speed, throwing the weapon from her hands and pinning against her against a wall. "Looks like you were offering me something to eat after all."

The girl spit in his face.

Spike snarled, rearing back to rip out her throat. Suddenly, he was on his back, an angry looking Slayer standing above him. Her stake was poised to strike, but Spike jumped up, kicking his foot out as he did and knocking the Slayer to the ground. "Another time, ducks. I've got other things to do."

Despite his earlier desire to bring the dead Slayer home to Dru, the other girl had intrigued him too much. He wanted to see if he could dig up who she was. Killing the Slayer could wait for another time. With a swirl of leather, he was gone.

*** *** ***
 

Chapter 2:

"What the hell did you do that for?"

The Slayer blinked as she stood, brushing off her clothes. She'd never had someone get angry with her for saving their life before. "That man was going to kill you. I rescued you."

"For your information, I didn't need rescuing. I was handling it just fine."

"He had you pinned against a wall!"

"Yeah, well, that was all part of my plan to…lure him into a false sense of security!"

"From where I was standing, it didn't look so false."

"Then maybe you should stand somewhere else." The blonde girl stormed over to where her crossbow lay and picked it up before starting out the alley. She stopped, sighing heavily when she felt a hand on her arm. "You've already ruined my night enough. So why don't you just piss off now, and leave me alone."

"Where are you going to go? That guy—he's really not someone you want to be chasing after."

The blonde turned and narrowed her eyes on the Slayer. "I've been chasing William the Bloody in one way or another for almost my entire life. And I don't need you to tell me what I want."

"Look, I don't know who you are, but…"

"Yeah, well, I know who you are. You're the Slayer. Miss Chosen Vamp Fodder herself. And hey, that's great for you, but I don't need a sacred calling to tell me vampires are evil and need to be made dusty. So if you'll excuse me…"

"No! Wait. Don't run off, all right? You…how do you know about Slayers?"

"I know a lot of things. But right now, I have to go. You're making me waste valuable time that I could be spending hunting my prey."

The Slayer shivered at the tone in the girl's voice. She'd never imagined anyone thinking of Spike as prey before—especially someone who Spike himself would so clearly consider to be the actual prey. "If you want to kill Spike, that's fine by me. But chasing after him right now isn't going to get you very far." She stepped closer to the girl again, holding out her hand. "I'm Nancy."

The girl eyed the hand outstretched in front of her warily for a moment. With a resigned sigh, she took it. "Buffy."

Nancy's eyes widened slightly. "Buffy? Really?"

Buffy snatched her hand away. "Hey, I didn't say anything about Nancy."

"I'm sorry, you just…don't seem like a Buffy. I mean, you're all 'grr' and with the crossbow…"

"Yeah, well, my mother gave me this name," Buffy snapped. She started to walk off when Nancy ran in front of her, blocking her way.

"I'm sorry. I didn't mean anything by that. I was just surprised. It's not really a name you hear outside of Valley Girl movies."

"Unless, you know, you're me and you hear it on a daily basis."

"Um, good point." Nancy frowned. "But really, none of this matters. I need to know who you are and what you're doing here."

"And why is this exactly?" Buffy asked, clearly exasperated. The damn Slayer had already made her miss her chance at killing that monster and now she was playing twenty questions?

"Because I'm the Slayer, and this is my town. So again, I need to know who you are and what you're doing here."

"Your town? Take a look around. It's their town. You've just been given temporary residency until one of them gets lucky and the next Slayer is called."

Nancy pulled back, her eyes going hard. "This is my town, and I need to know who you are and what you're doing here," she repeated for a third time.

Buffy rolled her eyes. "And where exactly have you been for the past few minutes? I'm Buffy. I'm here to kill William the Bloody. Do I need to write it down for you?"

Nancy put her hands on her hips. "You know that doesn't really tell me anything."

"Good, 'cause nothing else is any of your business."

"Look, Buffy, I…"

"Nancy! You're all right."

Buffy glanced at the two people who had just walked out of the club's back entrance. They had to be the two most unfortunate fashion victims she had ever seen. Not that her outfits were exactly Vogue-worthy, but at least she knew the evils of Hawaiian prints and fuzzy sweaters.

"You'd been gone for a while, and we were worried," said fuzzy sweater girl. "Well, Xander was worried. Not…not that I never worry about you, but I figured you were just out here slaying those baddies." She caught sight of Buffy for the first time, and her eyes widened. "Er…boys! Slaying those boys. But…uh…not in a killing sort of way."

Buffy rolled her eyes. Could this possibly get any more pathetic?

"It's okay, Willow," Nancy said. "She knows about Slayers."

"How does she know about Slayers?" the boy in the Hawaiian shirt asked. "She's not another Slayer, is she? Did you die again, Nan?"

"No, I didn't die. She's…"

Before Nancy could finish, Buffy asked the boy skeptically, "How do you know about Slayers?"

"We're Nancy's friends," he replied, his chest slightly puffed out. "We help her."

"Is that's what's up with that shirt? You wear bright colors to attract vampires for Nancy over there?" Buffy jerked her thumb towards the Slayer.

The boy opened his mouth to respond, but Nancy stepped in. "Xander and Willow are students at the local high school. They found out about my Calling, and they help me."

"You get help from high school students?" Buffy asked in disbelief. "I'm sure all the vampires out there are deeply afraid."

"You know, Buffy…"

Before Nancy could finish her sentence, Xander interjected with, "Her name is Buffy?"

Buffy threw up her hands. "Oh, this is it. Seeing as my night has been effectively ruined by the Slayer and her vamp bait, I'm going to find someplace that's else."

"I'm not vamp bait!" Xander exclaimed. "For your information, I can help with the killing. And…and the research. And I can whittle stakes!"

"Oh aren't you just a regular Renaissance man." Buffy had started off when Nancy cut her off again.

"I can't let you leave."

"You can't exactly prevent me from leaving."

Nancy narrowed her eyes. "I can."

"What exactly is your problem? I came to this town to take care of a vamp that, rumor has it, is giving you a bit of trouble, Slayer. So how about you just get out of my way and let me do what I came here to do?"

"I can't let you wander the streets of Sunnydale in search of Spike!"

"Why the hell not?"

"Because you're obviously a loose cannon, and I can't deal with one of those right now."

"A loose… I've been doing this my entire life. I know what I'm doing."

"Um, if the scene I walked in on earlier is any indication, no, you don't."

"I told you I had that under control."

Nancy held up her hands. "Fine. You had it all under control. You were going to distract Spike by letting him rip your throat out. I got it. But why don't you just accept some help with killing him, all right? Do you have a place to stay?"

"Sure I do." Buffy crossed her arms in front of her, though Nancy could still tell that her confidence was slipping for the first time that evening. "I just…haven't figured out where it is yet."

"Come stay with me. At least for the night. Clean place to sleep and a warm meal. What do you say?"

Buffy knew what the Slayer was doing. She was trying to lure her in so she could figure out more about her. The thing that Buffy hated about it though, was that it was working. The promise of a place to sleep and food to eat was just more than Buffy could turn down. "Okay. But this is very very temporary. I'm killing William the Bloody and checking out of Sunnydale tomorrow night." The sound of Xander's sudden laughter made Buffy turn around sharply. "Something funny over there, Don Ho?"

"It's just, well, you act like killing Spike is going to be a piece of cake. Nancy's been trying for months, and she can't kill him." Missing the flash of shame in the Slayer's eyes, Xander continued. "You're not going to be able to just hunt him down and kill him in one night."

"Only takes one stake to kill a vamp," Buffy retorted.

"How about we just call this a night now," Nancy said, seeing the murderous glare Buffy was bestowing on Xander. "Willow, Xander, can you two get home okay?"

"Oh, I'm sure the Big Kahuna has a whole bag of personally-whittled stakes with him. They'll be fine," Buffy said.

Xander opened his mouth to speak, but Willow cut him off. "We'll be fine, Nancy. Call me tomorrow?"

"Of course. Night guys."

Nancy's friends said their good-byes and headed back towards the club as Buffy and Nancy walked together out of the alley.

*** *** ***

Spike stepped over the crumpled body at his feet. He'd hoped a kill would satisfy him, but his run in with that girl in the alley behind the Bronze had left him even more agitated than when he'd set out that night. And now he was left with nowhere to go but back to the mansion that Angelus had managed to turn into a love nest for himself and Drusilla…

Spike lit a cigarette as he walked slowly back towards Crawford Street. The night was still relatively young, and he was sure there was some kind of mayhem he could get into in ol' Sunny D, but his heart just wasn't in it. Leave it to Angelus to ruin a perfectly good Hellmouth for him…

And now that girl… He was sure his night would've improved greatly if he could've sunk his fangs into her. Or something else for that matter… Just thinking about what it had felt like to have her pressed between his body and the wall made his cock swell in his jeans. And her knowledge of who he was only intrigued him more…

Yet the Slayer had ruined his fun yet again. He wished he could just kill the bloody little bitch and get it over with. He'd killed Slayers in the past. But this one was proving to be difficult. He'd come close, but his soulful grandsire had always been there to pull the chit out of the fire. And now that Angelus was back to his old self, well, he seemed to think the proper way to kill a Slayer was to send her flowers and draw her little pictures while she slept. Pillock.

Spike thought back over the last three Slayers he had fought before this one. The first had been relatively easy, all things considered. One big fight, and he'd taken down a Slayer within the first two decades of his vampiric existence. Elevated him to the status of Master at an age when most of his kind were practically still fledglings.

Of course, most of the demon population called that a fluke. Said he'd just managed to get lucky, fight a Slayer when she was already down. But Spike had shut them up when he'd become the only vampire in history to kill two Slayers.

Not that he'd had any intention of stopping there. Too many other vamps had killed themselves one Slayer. Usually, they tended not to push their luck past that, figuring doing in one Slayer was enough to ascertain bragging rights. But Spike wanted more. Another vampire might get two as well, and Spike was in no mood to share the title "Slayer of Slayers."

It was his desire to secure that distinction for himself alone that had led him to Los Angeles not too long ago. He'd heard of a Slayer there who was reported to be the longest lived Slayer in history. A Slayer in her twenties, as this one was, was practically unheard of.

But age hadn't made her any weaker. If anything, the number of battles she'd survived had made her stronger than almost anyone Spike had ever had the pleasure of facing. He'd limped away from more fights with her than he cared to admit.

At the time, he'd wanted to blame all the mess in LA on circumstances, on nothing being as it should've been. But now after this Slayer kept getting the better of him, he was starting to worry that he'd somehow lost his edge. Or maybe the first couple of Slayers had just been a fluke…

Realizing he'd reached the mansion, Spike threw his cigarette to the ground and snubbed it out under his boot. With his vampiric hearing, he could catch the sounds Angelus and Drusilla were making already, and as soon as he opened the door, he was assaulted by their scents. It only served to make the image in front of him now of Dru's arms chained to the wall, her legs wrapped around her sire's waist as he took her, all the more vivid—all the more revolting.

"Have a good hunt, Willie?" Angelus asked, not even bothering to stop his thrusting.

"Sod off," Spike snarled, fighting the urge to go fight for what was his. But Drusilla would never forgive him if he hurt her "Daddy," and he knew it. He'd seen now how little he meant to the woman he'd loved and taken care of for over a century.

Angelus chuckled, then gave a sharp twist of his hips to make Drusilla squeal. "Doesn't look like I'm the one who has to do that now, boy."

Drusilla turned to Spike then, her eyes clouded over and unfocused. "Does Mummy's sweet William want to play, too?"

"Don't worry about him, Dru. He's not any fun anyway." Angelus features shifted, and he sank his fangs into Dru's ivory neck. All thoughts of her childe fled from her mind as she screamed in pleasure.

With a snarl, Spike stormed off, going upstairs to sleep the day away alone.

*** *** ***

 

Chapter 3:

Buffy looked up at the two story house that the Slayer had indicated was hers. "Well, this is quaint. Looks all…homey."

"I live here with my Watcher," Nancy said, going up on the front porch with Buffy close behind. "He also works in the library of the local high school. That's how I met Willow and Xander."

Buffy frowned. "What is a Watcher doing playing high school librarian?"

"The opening of the Hellmouth is there. This way, he can keep an eye on it," Nancy said as she fished her keys out of her pocket.

"Ah. How convenient."

"Giles!" Nancy called as soon as they walked into the house. "Giles, are you here?"

A middle-aged man walked into the foyer, frowning when he saw Buffy beside Nancy. "Hello, Nancy. You've brought a guest?"

"Sort of. I told her she could stay with us tonight. Her name is Buffy, and…"

"Buffy? Buffy Summers?"

When her Watcher's glasses came off as he said the girl's name, Nancy knew that things were more serious than she'd thought. "I didn't ask her last name…" Nancy said.

"Yeah, well, I'm right here, so I can tell you that's who I am."

Giles replaced his glasses and cleared his throat. "The Council has been looking for you. Ever since…"

"Howard's death, I know. But I had things to do, and I didn't much feel like being shuffled off to Merry Ol' England." Buffy gave Giles a warning glare. "And don't even bother calling Travers, because I'll be out of here by tomorrow evening anyway."

"I don't understand," Giles replied with a frown. "You've been missing for over a year, now you show up in the home of the active Slayer and say you'll be gone tomorrow? The Council…"

"I don't care about the Council," Buffy snapped. "I'm here for William the Bloody."

Giles's glasses came off again. "Spike? You've come to Sunnydale to… Miss Summers, this is, well, frankly it's insanity. For whatever your family history may be, you yourself are not a Slayer. To go up against a master vampire that strong would be nothing short of suicide for you."

Buffy stood as tall as she could. "I faced him tonight."

"Yeah, and he would've killed you if I hadn't intervened," Nancy said with a snort.

Buffy turned, her hand on the door. "It was a mistake coming here. I should be searching for him right now."

Giles moved quickly, grabbing Buffy's hand and taking it away from the door. "It would be in your best interest, Miss Summers, to stay here, at least for the evening. You look as if you could use some rest. And if you do not want me to contact Quentin Travers, then I will respect your wishes. But do stay here. Would you like something to eat?"

Buffy eyed him warily. Why did people keep using food to convince her to stay? She admitted to herself reluctantly that it was probably those bones of hers that were so clearly protruding. She didn't spend a lot of time in front of a mirror, but she knew all too well that she was sporting that starving street orphan look. She backed away from the door. "I'm only agreeing to stay so I can gather my strength to fight the vampire tomorrow night," she said.

"Yes, of course," Giles replied, guiding her towards the kitchen. "Nancy, I believe there's an air mattress in the closet in my study. Would you please set it up for our guest? And perhaps take her things upstairs?"

"Of course, Giles," Nancy replied. She reached for Buffy's bag, and the blonde girl hesitated for a moment before handing it over.

Buffy followed Giles, taking a seat at the island in the kitchen once they got there. "I'm afraid we don't have much at the moment," Giles said. "I've been needing to go to the store. Would soup and a sandwich be sufficient?"

"It'll be fine," Buffy said. Compared to what she had been eating, it sounded like manna from Heaven…

"So what brings you to Sunnydale?" Giles asked as he began preparing her meal, trying to keep his tone conversational.

"Killing William the Bloody," Buffy answered simply.

"I had gathered that much. May I inquire as to why?"

"He murdered my mother."

Giles blinked. "I thought the Council never discerned what vampire had been the one to kill your mother."

"They didn't," Buffy replied. "I did."

"And you're certain it was Spike?"

"Yes. Especially after I saw him tonight. He was the one who was with my mother before she died. She left with him, and she never came home."

"She…left with him?" Giles asked with a frown. "Where did she leave from?"

"Our apartment," Buffy said. "He came when she was reading me a story before bedtime. They…they talked, and then she said she had to leave. She told me she'd be back soon to finish the story, and to stay with Howard until then. But she never came home."

Giles noted the lack of emotion Buffy tried to convey as she spoke, as if she were simply reciting facts, not remembering the last time she'd ever seen her mother. But he could see the pain in her eyes, pain that ran too deep for her to ever make no longer a part of her. "The Council's report of your mother's death never spoke of her willingly accompanying a vampire. It merely stated that she was found with the mark of a vampire on her neck."

"I was four years old," Buffy said. "I don't know what was going on. All I know is that William the Bloody was with my mother that night, and the word on the street is he's the one that did her in. He is the Slayer of Slayers after all."

"Well, yes, that he is. Two documented cases on the Council books. Xuang Li in 1900 and Nikki Wood in 1977."

"Add Joyce Summers in 1985 to that list," Buffy said. "I don't know why he was there that night, or why she went with him, but I do know he killed her. He'd been trying to months, and I guess he somehow tricked her into giving him his chance. All my sources have given me the same information. He is the thing that murdered my mother, and I will get my revenge."

"Going toe to toe with a vampire is no simple thing, Buffy. You didn't inherit your mother's powers," Giles told her.

"No, but I can still fight. I've been training for this for years. And I've killed many vampires, Giles. I know how to do it," Buffy insisted, her head raised high.

"Be that as it may, Spike is very powerful. He has bested more than one Slayer. The odds are more than good that should you face him, he will kill you."

"Then my last act will be to plunge my stake into his cold, dead heart," Buffy said, her eyes dark with an angry determination that made Giles shudder involuntarily.

"Would you at least consider going about this differently? I can understand your need to avenge your mother, but I sincerely doubt that she would've wished for you to get yourself killed like you most likely will should you rush headlong into a battle with Spike. Can you accept help from Nancy?" Giles watched as Buffy seemed to ponder what he'd said. Honestly, he'd just as soon the girl return to the safety of the Council. Perhaps they could finally track down her wayward father. But he recognized the look in her eyes and knew that she would not rest until the vampire that had taken her mother from her was dust—or she was in the ground herself. Perhaps he could convince her to make a decision that would help her stay alive. He certainly hoped so. If for nothing else, then for Joyce…

"I'm not going to deal with any procrastination," Buffy informed Giles. "If I accept Nancy's help, then she better help me now. I know she's got other problems, like that bloodsucking boyfriend of hers I've heard about, but I'm in no mood to wait for her to deal with them. I want Spike to pay for what he did. I won't be able to rest until it's done."

Giles regarded the dark circles under Buffy's eyes, and wondered if that last statement was a literal one. How long had this child suffered, haunted by what had happened to her mother? "He will, Buffy. Spike has already done enough evil in this world, and if what you say about him being Joyce's murderer is true, well… I will do everything in my power to help you, Buffy. But it is important to me that you stay as safe as possible."

Buffy looked at Giles askance for a moment. "You…you knew my mother, didn't you? As more than just another page in the Watcher's Diaries."

"Yes. Briefly, before her death." Before Buffy could ask any more questions, Giles set her dinner in front of her. "Would you like something to drink? Milk, perhaps?"

Buffy nodded. "Please."

Giles retrieved the carton from the fridge and began to pour a glass for the small young woman in his kitchen. He watched as she virtually attacked her food, manners being forgotten in the face of the first real meal she'd had in weeks. His heart clenched as he thought of what Joyce would feel if she could see her little girl now, and he hoped he could convince Buffy to let him make things a little easier for her…

*** *** ***

Buffy lay awake on the air mattress the Slayer had placed on the floor of her bedroom. She could hear Nancy snoring lightly, and the sound was just enough to distract her too much to allow her to fall asleep.

Not that she was sure she'd be able to sleep anyway with the freight train of thoughts roaring through her mind…

She had failed. No matter what she'd tried to convince the Slayer and her companions of, Buffy had faced the monster who had murdered her mother and she'd failed. The creature had bested her with ease, and if Nancy hadn't arrived when she had, Buffy knew she'd already be dead.

In her mind, she played the moment that her crossbow bolt had lodged itself centimeters away from his heart over and over again. Such a slip was inexcusable. Had she merely forced herself to gain total focus on the moment, to concentrate the way she should have, she would've hit her mark, and her mother would already be avenged. She would be able to rest easy now, knowing she had done what needed to be done.

"I'm sorry, Mommy," Buffy whispered, almost silently, a single tear rolling down her cheek.

*** *** ***

Rupert Giles stared into his almost-empty glass of brandy, his mind already made up to call in sick to work the next morning. That rat-faced principal he was forced to work with could shove it up his arse if he managed to unclench enough first. Rupert had more important things to worry about than his sham job of high school librarian.

Joyce's daughter was there, sleeping in his house. It brought back memories he didn't realize how unprepared he was to deal with. The girl looked so much like her mother it made him ache. And though they were a different color, Rupert could swear those had been Joyce's eyes staring up at him.

He had been quietly searching for the girl ever since he'd heard that Harold Rimes had died and that Buffy had gone missing. Truth be told, he had wanted to become her guardian after he mother's death, though the Council had decreed that she should stay with Joyce's Watcher, Harold, as opposed to being handed over to a man she had not truly known.

Even if that man had held foolish hopes of someday becoming the girl's father…

Rupert had wished even more after Harold's death that Joyce had let him become a part of Buffy's life instead of keeping them separated due to her fear of Buffy becoming "attached" to someone who may not be a permanent part of her life. Even when he'd assured Joyce that he had no intention of leaving, she'd cited that all the books said that you shouldn't introduce your child to your post-divorce significant other too soon.

It had always amazed Rupert how someone with a life as unconventional as Joyce's had been would be concerned with what could be found in some parenting how-to guide.

But Joyce had always tried so hard to be normal for her daughter. Tried so hard to give Buffy a life that she could never really have. It was what had driven her to marry that oaf Hank Summers when she'd discovered she was pregnant, even when Giles was certain Joyce knew in her heart that Hank would never make her happy—or stick around when things got too difficult for that matter.

And now Buffy's life was anything but textbook normal. She'd obviously been living on the streets for quite some time, hunting down a vampire Giles knew she'd never be able to face and live to tell the tale. She was so small, so frail. Maybe if he'd been able to raise her, given her a father's love and care, she wouldn't be so lost now.

He was sure Harold had tried. Harold Rimes had been a good man, one who had cared deeply for his charge and her child. But he was also a firm believer in the famed "British stiff upper lip," and had most likely taught Buffy to hold her anguish over her mother's death deep inside. Furthermore, the elderly man's waning health had to have been a strain on the young girl. The Council's report had briefly mentioned that Buffy had discovered Harold's body, and Rupert hated to think of that trauma being piled on top of the burden the girl already carried.

He wanted to go to her now, to comfort her, but he didn't know how. He was hurting himself, the recent loss of Jenny Calendar both forming new wounds on his heart as well as reopening old ones. He was beginning to wonder if he was cursed, if every woman he loved was doomed to die so tragically.

Rupert drank the last of the brandy in his glass before pouring himself another.

*** *** ***
 

Chapter 4:

Buffy frowned as she came downstairs to find Nancy's friends gathered in the living room. "Shouldn't you people like, be in school or something?" she asked.

"It's four o'clock in the afternoon," Xander replied, his mouth full of twinkie.

Buffy just grunted a little in response. She'd long since put herself on the same schedule as a vampire. Sleep during the day…hunt at night.

"Do you need anything?" Nancy asked, standing up. "Giles just got back from the store, so there's food in there."

"You can sit back down," Buffy said. "I think I can remember where the kitchen is." Buffy walked out of the living room, ignoring the comments she heard about her behavior coming from the Slayer and her lackeys.

"Buffy, you're awake!" Giles said as he saw her come in.

"Yeah. I'm a late sleeper, what with the staying up all night to vanquish the undead and all…"

"No, that's fine. Nancy often sleeps late as well for the same reason." Giles cleared his throat. "I was just unpacking the groceries. If you're hungry, there's more food than there was last night."

Buffy looked at the brown paper bags filling the kitchen. "I'd say you went shopping… Planning on feeding an army, Giles?"

He shifted a little. "I didn't know what you like."

Buffy gave him what could've been the beginnings of a smile. "Well, I'm sure I can find something in all of this." She went to a bag, her eyes brightening slightly as she saw what was in it. "Ooh…frozen pizza."

Giles's mouth turned up in a wry smile as he turned on the oven. "Better put in a couple of them. Those children out there eat everything in sight."

Buffy pulled out two boxes. "Noted." She opened the first box, pulling the pizza out of its plastic bag before moving to the next one. "You loved her, didn't you?" she asked suddenly.

The question startled Giles, but he didn't have to ask who she meant. Joyce… "Yes. I did. I wanted to marry her, but she wasn't ready."

"I didn't…I didn't know she was seeing anyone," Buffy said softly, staring down at the frozen pizza.

"She didn't want you to get attached to me in case things didn't work out," Giles explained. "And I was in England most of the time, so we only got to see each other rarely."

"Did she…did she ever talk about me?"

"Always. You were the center of her world, Buffy. She wanted nothing more than your happiness."

The silence that followed was broken by the ding of the oven, letting them know that it was heated. Buffy put the pizzas in. "Timer?"

"There's one on the microwave," Giles replied.

Buffy nodded, setting the timer for the pizzas. "Want help with the groceries?" she asked.

"No, I can handle it. I have a system in the pantry, and I don't much care for explaining it right now."

Buffy smirked. "Yeah, now you sound like a Watcher."

Giles gave her a look, but said nothing in response to that. He began to unload another bag, but stopped, cereal box in hand. "I have a picture of you she gave me. In my wallet."

Buffy looked towards him sharply. "You do?"

"Yes. It was your four year old pre-school picture. I knew…I know you aren't my daughter, but I'd wished you would be. In retrospect, I suppose it was a bit of a pipe dream, but I thought we'd all be together someday. That you, Joyce, and I could be a family."

Buffy pushed down the lump that formed in her throat. She didn't have time for emotions, not when she was this close to avenging her mother. "The Slayer doesn't get to have a family."

"No, I guess she doesn't." Giles cleared his throat. "But I was young then. I didn't understand things the way I do now."

Buffy turned, staring at the microwave as the numbers counted down.

*** *** ***

Buffy forced herself to eat despite the fact that her appetite seemed to have waned following her conversation with Giles. If she was going to face Spike that night, she would need all the energy she could get.

The Slayer and her friends seemed to be perfectly content, however. They were seated on the end of the table opposite from Buffy, engaged in a conversation that they'd made no attempt to include the blonde in. Not that she really cared. She certainly didn't have a place in her life for friends, and she thought it was crazy that the Slayer thought otherwise about her own life. Didn't she know that all Slayers did was wait around to die?

"It'll be dark soon," Buffy said, tiring of the inane chatter at the other end of the table. "Shouldn't we be thinking about getting ready to hunt?"

"I don't 'hunt,'" Nancy replied, looking down the table towards Buffy. "I patrol."

"Whatever, Sergeant Slayer. When are we going to patrol?"

"We don't have to rush out as soon as the sun goes down, Buffy," Nancy said. "Vampires usually don't."

Buffy rolled her eyes. "Please. For vamps, the sunset means dinner bell. Didn't they teach you anything in Slayer school?"

"Hey, Nancy's a good Slayer," Xander snapped. "She knows how to do her job."

"A Slayer's job is to get herself killed. It's all she's good for," Buffy said.

"Hey! Don't talk about Nancy that way!" Xander yelled. "She's a good Slayer. She knows how to stay alive."

"Oh yeah?" Buffy replied. "Why don't you ask her? You know, don't you Nancy? You know you have an expiration date and the clock's just ticking away. Waiting until some demon finally gives you the death you were born for."

"Don't talk to her like that!" Xander jumped up, pointing at Buffy. "Just because Spike took a bite out of your mother doesn't mean Nancy's going to end up the same way."

Buffy's eyes narrowed. So Nancy had filled her friends in on who Buffy was and why she was there… "Don't you ever speak about my mother," Buffy said, her tone almost a growl. "She was a better Slayer than Nancy could even dream of being."

Xander opened his mouth to speak again, but before he could, Nancy stood up, slamming her hands down on the table. "Stop it! Both of you. This bickering won't do anyone any good."

Xander sat down, looking slightly sheepish. "Sorry, Nan. I was just trying to…"

"I know. And I do appreciate it. Really."

Buffy got up, her anger far from gone. "I'm going to get weapons, and then I'm heading out to find Spike. If you want to quit playing social butterfly and actually act like a Slayer, you can come to."

Nancy sucked in a deep breath. "I can do my job, Buffy. I've been doing it from two years."

"Color me not impressed," Buffy replied, walking out of the room before Nancy or one of her friends could say anything else. She had more important things to do than deal with them.

Buffy opened her one bag, everything she had to her name inside. She pulled out her crossbow, running her hand over it. It was one of the two things she still had of her mother's, the other being the cross that hung around her neck.

She thought it would be a fitting weapon to kill Spike with. Would give her mother that final bit of justice.

"Buffy?"

Buffy grimaced at the sound of Nancy's friend's voice. She turned, the crossbow still in her hand. "What? Willow, right?"

"Yeah. And, um, could you maybe point that someplace else?" Willow asked. "Not that I think you're going to shoot me or anything, they just make me nervous."

Buffy lowered the crossbow, though her dark expression remained firmly in place. "Come to add to what Xander had to say? Defend the almighty Nancy the Vampire Slayer?"

Willow shook her head. "No. I mean, Nancy and Xander are both my friends, but what he said—about your mom and Spike—that was wrong. He just has this problem where every time he opens his mouth, his foot automatically goes in it. We've tried to find something for it, pills—maybe a cream—but so far it's been a no-go."

Buffy couldn't help the tiniest grin from forming. "I've heard it's a side effect of having your head up your ass. Less space for the foot to travel or something."

Willow smirked. "Possibly." She sobered, starting again. "See, the thing with Xander—he's got feelings for Nancy. They dated a little when she first came to Sunnydale, but, well, she had the big yen for Angel, and that pretty much prevented anything from going very far."

"So she broke his heart and he's still hanging around?" Buffy made a sound of disbelief. "Guy must be quite the glutton for punishment."

"He thinks she'll 'come to her senses' and get back together with him," Willow said. "He sure it'll happen any day now that Angel's back to being Angelus."

"But it's not going to, is it?"

"No, I don't think it is. Nancy's still reeling from the fact that her first love went all evil and tried to kill her."

"That's what happens when you fall for a vampire," Buffy said. "I heard that this 'Angel' got a soul shoved in him by gypsies or something, but that really didn't change anything. An animal with a soul is still an animal. Nothing can change what a vampire is, nothing can make them love or even care. They're demons at the core and they always will be."

Willow shifted, and Buffy could tell the conversation had become uncomfortable for her. There was something in her expression that told Buffy that she agreed some with what she had to say, at least a little bit, but at the same time, accepting and admitting that would make her feel as if she was betraying her friend. "He was different with a soul. He helped us, and he loved Nancy. But now…"

"Now he's just showing his true colors," Buffy said, her grip on her crossbow tightening. "I'll dust him if I get a chance, too. I don't care what Nancy has to say about it."

Willow's gaze turned down slightly. "Nancy knows it needs to be done. Our only hope of re-ensouling him is gone."

Buffy's eyebrow quirked. "How exactly were you going to do that?"

"Ms. Calendar, the computer science teacher at Sunnydale High, was a member of the gypsy clan that cursed Angelus in the first place. She was working on how to translate the spell when Angelus…"

"Killed her," Buffy finished for her.

Willow nodded. "Snapped her neck and left her in Giles's bed to find. It was awful."

"Why did he leave her there?" Buffy asked, though as soon as the question was out of her mouth she realized the answer. "She and Giles were…"

"Yeah. I think he was in love with her."

Despite her attempts to keep her emotions in check, Buffy's heart went out to Giles. He'd lost two women that he loved, both to vampires. She knew he had to be hurting in a way very similar to the way she was. In that moment, it became more for her than just a vengeance quest for her mother. It was also for the man that could have been her father. She'd put an end to both Spike and Angelus, and maybe Giles could know a little peace, too.

When Buffy said nothing in return, Willow spoke again. "I didn't really mean to get into all of this, I just… I wanted to tell you that while Nancy is my friend, I'd…I'd like you to be, too. You seem…really lonely."

"I appreciate the offer, but friends aren't something I want or need. I mean, you seem like a nice enough girl and all, but I'm on a mission here, and I don't really have time for chatting about boys while we paint each other's nails."

"You can't be alone all the time," Willow said. "Everyone needs someone."

"I have a mission," Buffy replied. "It's enough."

"But what happens when you kill Spike? What then?"

Buffy felt a small amount of gratitude towards Willow for not doubting her ability to kill Spike. Nice to know someone didn't think she was incompetent… "I don't know," she replied honestly. She turned around, grabbing a stake from her bag and putting it in the side pocket of her cargo pants. "But right now, I have to go hunting." She walked past Willow and out the door, not slowing down long enough for anyone to stop her.

*** *** ***

"The moon is calling, my sweet. It will wake soon, and so shall you."

Spike kept his eyes shut as he wondered when exactly Drusilla waking him had become more of an annoyance than a pleasure. Probably when she started doing it with his scent all over her, he thought grimly.

"Let him sleep the night away if that's what he wants. He's never any use on a hunt away."

The sound of his grandsire's voice grated, but Spike refused to let himself be goaded. It was too early in the evening to deal with all of that. He needed to feed first.

Drusilla whimpered. "He never wants to play with Mummy anymore. He just waits for the Sunshine to come and take him away…"

Angelus laughed loudly at that. "I wish. He'd be a lot less irritating as a pile of dust."

"Oooh…but I want him to come with us, Daddy."

Spike opened his eyes then, meeting Dru's wide gaze. It hadn't been that long ago that the idea of hunting with Drusilla would've brought him bounding to his feet. But since Angelus's return, that had changed. Spike would find himself lagging behind as Dru watched with the glee of an evil child as Angelus tortured his latest meal. The elder vampire's posturing for Drusilla made Spike nothing more than bored. He could remember things being this way in the past, before the onset of "Angel," but at that time he hadn't had decades of Dru to himself. Watching Drusilla focused so intently on someone other than him now took the sweetness out of the hunt.

"I'll catch up later, pet," he said. "You go have your fun."

Drusilla surprised him when she stepped back from the bed with a hiss. "You won't come at all. The pixies are whispering to me, and you're going to be a very naughty boy if you stay. Come now or I shan't let you have any cake."

"I'm not in the mood for cake, Dru," Spike snapped as he sat up.

"No," Drusilla spat. "You want spun sugar and lemon drops."

"As amusing as this lovers' quarrel for the insane is, can we get going? I'm hungry," Angelus said, a bored expression on his face as he stood in the doorway to the bedroom.

Drusilla turned away from Spike, going to her sire. Angelus took her hand, giving Spike a mock salute before leaving.

Spike growled, flopping back on the bed. This was getting to be too much. He found himself actually missing Darla. At least she'd managed to pull some of Angelus's attention away from Drusilla. But now… Things had gotten to the point that Spike had actually entertained the crazy notion of helping the Slayer kill her pointy-haired wanker of an ex.

He got out of the bed, angrily gathering his clothes. He needed to kill something.

*** *** ***
 

Chapter 5:

"You're only going to get yourself killed, you know."

Buffy ignore the Slayer, as she came down the stairs and walked to the front door. "I'm not going to wait around for you, Nancy. Spike is out there, and he's gone too long already without paying for what he did to my mother." Buffy walked out of the house, slamming the door behind her.

"Fine, let Spike rip out your throat," Nancy muttered under her breath. "Can't say I didn't warn you."

Giles stepped into the foyer a moment later, a frown on his face. "Did Buffy leave?"

"Yes," Nancy replied.

"She's hell-bent on killing Spike, G-Man," Xander called from the couch. "She's not gonna let Nancy stop her."

Giles forced himself to contain his annoyance with the teen boy. "Nancy, gather your weapons and catch up with Buffy. What she's planning to do amounts to suicide."

"It's her choice," Nancy said. "Why should I put myself in danger because she's reckless?"

Giles looked at her, his expression unrelenting. "Because I am your Watcher and I am telling you to do it," he replied, his tone leaving no room for debate.

Nancy gaped in surprise. Giles rarely talked to her like that—if ever. "I'll get my stakes," she said, going up the stairs. She got ready for patrol as quickly as she could, the current mood of her Watcher leading her to believe that any hesitation on her part would not be accepted.

When she went back downstairs, Nancy found Willow and Xander waiting by the door. "Do you want us to come with?" Willow asked.

Nancy shook her head. "No. It would be too dangerous right now. Who knows what could happen if Buffy catches up with Spike, and I don't want the two of you caught in the crossfire."

"If you say so, Nan," Xander replied. "But we're just a phone call away if you need us."

"I know. See the both of you later." Nancy stepped out of the house, wondering if she'd even be able to find Buffy.

*** *** ***

Spike heard something, but with all the whimpering and carrying on of his current prey, he couldn't concentrate enough to suss out what it was. He snapped the young woman's neck and she fell silent to the ground. There. That was much better.

He heard it again, a noise so quiet it almost wasn't there. Someone was sneaking into this warehouse with him and obviously trying to be stealthy about it. With his hearing, that was just wasted energy. He sniffed the air, a smirk forming on his face as he caught the scent.

"Just couldn't stay away from me, could you, pet? You don't have to be shy, luv. Why don't you come out and play?" She stayed hidden, but Spike could smell the trace of fear in the air now that she knew he knew she was there, and the scent went straight to his groin, making his jeans tighten. Maybe he could have a little fun with this one before he killed her. It wasn't like he'd been spending any time with Drusilla in his bed recently…

"Here, kitty, kitty, kitty," Spike called, moving slowly towards where he knew she was hiding. A bolt from a crossbow shot out from the dark, whizzing past his side. "Sorry, luv. You missed me."

Spike heard the click as she loaded the crossbow again, but this time he didn't let her fire. He knocked over the crates she'd been using as shelter. "Found you."

Buffy tried to scramble away from him, but Spike wouldn’t let her. Instead, he knocked the crossbow from her hands and pulled her towards him. She broke away from his grip, coming around to punch him in the face. Spike only grinned, wiping the blood away from his nose. "Feel like playing rough, do you? That's all right, baby. It's just the way I like it."

Buffy went towards her crossbow again, but Spike grabbed her, hauling her up and holding her tightly against him so she couldn't get to the weapon. "Let me go," Buffy said, struggling in his grip.

"'Fraid I can't do that," Spike replied. "You are here to kill me after all. Not so sure letting you go would be healthy for me."

Spike was too strong, and Buffy knew she couldn't break free of the hold he had on her now. He had her pressed against him, front to front, his arms pinning hers to her sides. He had her, and she had failed. She took a moment to ask forgiveness from her dead mother before turning her head to the side. "Get it over with."

Spike's demon visage shifted into place at the sight of her neck bared to him, waiting for his fangs to sink into what was being offered. It was tempting to taste her now, but it would be such a waste to leave her untouched. He inhaled deeply, her scent washing over him. "Not quite yet, kitten. Gonna have a little fun with you first."

Buffy frowned in confusion, wondering what he could mean by that. Then it dawned on her as she realized what part of him was pressed up against her. Her eyes widened. He couldn't honestly… He leaned in and kissed her, his tongue forcing entry into her mouth. He did…

Spike had debated for a moment over whether or not to take the time to kiss her, and he was glad he had made the decision to do it. She tasted wonderful, the warmth of her mouth amazing, and he hungered for more. His fangs nipped at her lips and tongue, and he could taste her blood in his mouth, feeding his desire. And when her tongue began to actively meet his and a hint of her arousal hit his nostrils, Spike couldn't help but groan and thrust against her.

Buffy realized with a flash of horror that she was responding to him. The monster that had murdered her mother was kissing her and she was kissing back. This was wrong. She'd shamed her mother enough with her inability to get revenge. She needed to pull away, to try to fight again. Killing her was one thing, but this…

Spike felt her body tense up, and he moved his hands under her shirt, pushing the cups of her bra out of the way and massaging her breasts. Whether she was compliant or not didn't really make a difference to him in the end, but he'd been enjoying her response. The scent of her arousal made it all the sweeter… His thumbs flicked over her hardened nipples, and Buffy moaned, arching into his hands. Spike smiled against her lips, knowing he had her. It wasn't often that a woman could resist him when he didn't want her to…

Buffy's mind seemed to have all but shut down. She knew she shouldn't be doing this, that she should be thinking about what he had done to her mother and not what he was doing to her right now, but the assault on her senses was too much. Unarmed and at the mercy of a vampire, she had very little doubt that she was going to die that night. Maybe if she gave in, let herself feel what he was offering, it would make facing that easier.

She knew it was wrong to take that last bit of solace in the arms of your killer, but as he pulled her jeans open and pushed his hands between her legs, that didn't seem to matter anymore.

Spike could feel how tight she was, even as her moisture coated his fingers, making their rough slide inside her a little easier. He couldn't get in much further than about an inch, and he knew filling her with his cock would prove difficult. But he wasn't going to stop or even slow down. She was grinding against him, a glassy look to her eyes, and it was turning him on too much to not have her right then.

With a growl, Spike shoved her against the wall, roughly pulling down her jeans. When they stopped at her shoes, he pulled harder, tearing the thick denim until they were hanging off one leg. Buffy's arms and legs went around him, clinging to him, and Spike unbuttoned his own jeans, freeing his cock from its confines.

Spike held her up, poised at the tip of his cock, and watched the blonde he had pinned for a moment. Her face was flushed, her eyes closed, and he knew she was gone—lost in her body's reaction to his touch. He pulled her down on to him, using his superior strength to force his way in when her small body tried to reject his girth. Her eyes popped open, a scream torn from deep in her throat, and Spike knew without a doubt that he was the first man to touch this girl. He gritted his teeth, stilling his movements more for himself than for her. It had been a while since he'd last taken a human, and he'd forgotten how hot they were. Or maybe this one was just hotter than most. She was like thrusting into warm sunshine…

Dru's ramblings from earlier in the evening came rushing back to him, and Spike had to fight the near-hysterical laughter that threatened to break forth. Sometimes that woman made more sense than he thought even she realized.

Buffy pushed at Spike's shoulders, the pain bordering on unbearable. He was nearly ripping her in two, and she squirmed and pushed, wanting him off of her.

Spike gave a low growl as he felt her responses stop being welcoming towards him. No matter how much she struggled, he certainly wasn't going to stop now, not with how tight and hot she was. But he'd also been enjoying her earlier enthusiasm, and he wanted to feel her move against him.

He wanted to know how sweet her blood would taste when she was in the throes of an orgasm…

He kissed her, stifling her cries of pain as he reached between their bodies with one hand, finding her clit and rubbing it hard.

Buffy stopped struggling as the pain began to fade, replaced by the shocks his fingers were making course through her. Some of the pain remained, his rough thrusts heedless of her torn, untried body, but the pleasure was enough now that it didn't matter. It only added to the overall sensation.

Spike pulled his lips from hers, noticing that the cries she made now were again ones of pleasure. She was no longer pushing him away, but pulling him closer, her hips coming up from the wall as best they could to meet his thrusts. He could feel her getting close, her already wonderfully tight vaginal walls growing tighter, squeezing him harder than he ever remembered experiencing before. The sounds she was making were nearly inhuman, and they only served to drive him further out of his mind.

When she bucked hard against him, the scream she let out the loudest yet, Spike knew she had reached her peak. He moved in then, his fangs ripping into her throat as he came inside her, filling her with his cool, dead seed as he took her warm life's blood.

As he heard her heartbeat slow, Spike dropped her, letting her fall to the ground in a heap.

*** *** ***

Drusilla and Angelus had apparently returned from their hunt by the time Spike got back to the mansion, as Drusilla was waiting for him. She flew at him in a rage, clawing at him, her nails scratching his face deep before he grabbed her wrists and held her away from him.

"The pixies are whispering to me what you've done, Spike, but I don't need to listen," she sneered. "I can smell her all over you. Nasty bits of sunshine clinging to my dark knight, making him too dirty for Mummy to bathe."

Spike was far from in the mood for Drusilla's jealous snit. "Guess now you know what I felt every time you came back from Angelus," he replied.

"You'll try to make her your pretty dolly, but she doesn't want to play. She'll hate you. They always hate you." She stopped, tilting her head and looking at a space somewhere beyond him. "Limp, sentimental fool."

Spike roared, tossing Drusilla to the ground. He'd had enough of this—her rejection, her cold words. He stalked towards her, his demon at the surface until he heard her whimpering, cowering from him. He softened then, his face going from demon to human. "Dru…pet…"

Before Spike could make another move, Angelus sauntered into the room, taking a quick look at the scene playing out in front of him. "What's this? You finally grow a pair, Willie boy?"

"Piss off, Angelus," Spike snarled back.

"I will as soon as I get what I came for." Angelus held his hand out towards Drusilla. "Dru, I told you to wait for me in the bed. I'm afraid there's going to have to be a spanking."

Drusilla jumped to her feet, clasping her hands together. "Ooh, how I do love a spanking! Can there be whips?"

Angelus shrugged. "If you want."

"Dru an' I weren't finished talking yet," Spike snapped at his grandsire.

"Yeah, you were," Angelus replied. "Besides, it smells like you've already had your fun for the night. Been playing with your food?" Angelus chuckled as he left the room, Drusilla running along behind him.

Filled with anger and frustration he could do nothing to truly vent, Spike picked up a chair, throwing it at the closed door with a roar.

*** *** ***
 

Chapter 6:

Buffy woke slowly, her head feeling as if it had been stuffed full of cotton. He body was numb, and there was a light shining in her eyes that seemed too bright.

"Buffy? Are you awake?"

Buffy turned her head slightly, though the dull pain in her neck made it difficult. She blinked, bringing the face of the person beside her into focus. "Giles?" she asked, her throat scratchy and making her voice sound more like a squeak.

Giles was relieved that Buffy had regained consciousness, though he feared the worst was yet to come. He had told the doctors that he was her father, and they had disclosed to him Buffy's physical state when she arrived at the hospital. It seemed as though her blood had not been enough to satisfy the demon that had done this to her, and it made his stomach turn to think of this girl having to suffer such a horror. "I sent Nancy to help you," Giles said. "She couldn't find you. I should've gone, too. I should have…" His voice broke. "Buffy, I'm so sorry."

Buffy reached weakly over the side of the hospital bad, laying her hand on top of his. "I'm okay," she said. "I'm not dead."

And she wondered why that was. Spike had had her at his mercy. She wasn't fighting him, too far caught up in what he was doing to her body for that. His fangs had been in her throat. He drank from her. Why didn't he finish the job?

"Is the patient awake?" a nurse asked as she walked into the room.

"I'm awake," Buffy said. "A little woozy, but awake."

"The police have been waiting to speak to you," the nurse said as she checked Buffy's vitals. "Do you feel up to it?"

"Yeah," Buffy replied.

"Are you sure?" Giles asked. "You…"

"I'm fine. Send them in," Buffy said, hoping she sounded stronger than she actually felt. She tried to sit up, but found it difficult so she remained lying down.

The nurse left, and a few moments later two men walked in. They each gave a nod towards Giles before turning to Buffy. "I'm Detective Anderson and this is Detective Greene," one of them said. "We know you're still recuperating, so we won't take up much of you're time. We've been having trouble identifying the other young woman found in the warehouse with you, and…"

"Other young woman?" Buffy asked with a frown.

"Her body was found near you, with injuries similar to your own," Detective Greene clarified. "You don't know who she was?"

Buffy realized then what Spike must've been doing when she'd first come to that warehouse. He'd been feeding, and apparently that girl hadn't been as lucky as she'd been. One of his victims had laid there dead while she'd let him… Buffy felt sick to her stomach.

"No," she told the detectives. "I didn't know her."

"Oh, well, then thank you for your time," Detective Anderson said. "We hope have you a speedy recovery." He and his partner walked out without another word.

"Giles, they never even asked me for a description of the man that attacked me," Buffy said. "Not that it would've done any good, but…"

"You're on a Hellmouth now, Buffy. The police tend to turn a blind eye to people found with puncture wounds in their necks," Giles said.

"So they just give vampires free reign of the town—knowingly?" Buffy asked in disbelief.

"For the most part, yes," Giles replied. "But Nancy has done much to keep down the undead population since coming here."

"Such is the life of the Slayer." Buffy looked around, the bright hospital walls seeming almost blinding. "I need to get out of here, Giles. I hate hospitals."

"Now that you've woken up, I doubt you'll have to stay much longer." Giles paused, clearing his throat. "The doctor did say you may wish to speak to a counselor before you left."

"A counselor?" Buffy asked with a frown. "What, do they have vamp-snack counselors on the Hellmouth, too?"

"No." Giles took off his glasses, looking down and away from Buffy. "From your injuries…it appears as if…" He looked up at her again, taking a deep breath. "The doctor believed you may wish to speak to a rape counselor, Buffy."

Buffy's eyes widened. Giles thought… She wasn't going to kid herself. She knew if she hadn't have been willing with Spike, he would've done it anyway. He was a vampire, and "no" wasn't a word they actually listened to. But she hadn't told him no. She'd let him use her body, and she'd enjoyed it.

She wondered if that was partly worse, at least in the long run. She'd have to live with the knowledge for the rest of her life that she had taken pleasure in the arms of her mother's killer—with another one of his victims dead in the room. What she had done was sick and wrong—dirty.

"No, Giles," she said softly. "I don't need a counselor for that. I just want to leave this place."

"Are you sure?"

"Yes."

Giles stood, replacing his glasses on his nose. "I'll go find the doctor, see about getting you released."

Buffy gave him a small smile. "Thank you."

*** *** ***

It was a while yet until nightfall, but Spike couldn't sleep. Thankfully, Drusilla and Angelus had finally worn themselves out, leaving him free of their screams and moans.

But it was a whole different set of moans that he couldn't get out of his head. It still seemed unbelievable to him that he'd gotten such a ride out of a tiny human girl who couldn't be any older than seventeen. And a virgin at that… He'd come harder in her than he remembered coming in a long time. Still made him shiver just thinking about it.

And her blood… It had been so sweet, its rich flavor still seeming to coat his mouth now, hours later.

Maybe that's why he hadn't killed her. He'd wanted to taste her blood again. She'd been too good to use only once. He'd use her again, get his fill of her, and then he'd kill her. Yeah, that was what he'd wanted all along, why he'd walked away while her heart was still beating.

He shifted in the cold bed, wishing she was there with him. Her warm, tight body was just the place he wanted to be. She could drive from his mind the fact that Drusilla was sleeping next to another man.

He shouldn't have left her in the warehouse. He should've taken her someplace where he could break her in properly. His cock grew hard as he thought about what he could do to her, all the ways he could make her scream in both pleasure and pain.

Spike slid his left hand under the sheet, grasping his cock, slicking it with the fluid that was already oozing from the tip. There was no way he could duplicate her warmth with his own cold hand, but if he squeezed hard enough he could almost meet her tightness. He closed his eyes, drawing her scent to the front of his mind, replaying her every cry, every moan. He stroked faster, his hand sliding up and down with superhuman speed as he remembered how she'd felt with her legs wrapped around his waist, her small hands clinging to him.

His fangs pushed through his gums, the bones of his forehead shifting as he remembered the feel of her blood flowing into his mouth, its sweet taste on his tongue. He came into his hand with a roar, lost in the memory of her.

He was panting when he came back down, heedless of the fact that he didn't need to breathe. He wiped his spendings on the side of the bed before rolling over, his eyes closing as a smile formed on his lips. When the sun went down, he'd find that girl and come inside her wet, velvet heat again and again until he'd had his fill of her body and her blood.

*** *** ***

Buffy sat on Nancy's bed, staring at the blue comforter. It reminded her of his eyes, and she hated herself for even thinking that.

She looked up sharply when there was a knock at the door, and she wondered with dread who it was on the other side. Nancy was the last person she wanted to see, and Giles would look at her with pity and make her feel even worse.

He should be looking at her with disgust, the way he surely would if he knew the truth.

"Come in," she said, deciding to bite the bullet. She felt actually relieved when she saw the Willow poke her head in.

"I brought you juice and cookies," Willow said, coming into the room. "That's what they always feed you after you give blood." Willow frowned. "Although I guess he probably took a lot more than the Red Cross usually does."

"They gave me a transfusion for most of it, so I'm sure this will help with the rest," Buffy said, taking the offered juice and cookies.

Willow smiled. "Well, that's why I came upstairs, so I'll just leave now. Let you get some rest."

"You can stay," Buffy said quickly. Maybe if someone else was in the room she'd stop thinking about eyes that seemed to be able to look right through her be they blue or feral gold…

"Need some company?" Willow asked.

"Something like that," Buffy replied.

Willow sat on the edge of the bed and Buffy sipped her juice. The cookies looked homemade, and when she bit into one, it was still warm. She swallowed and said, "These are really good."

Willow beamed. "You like them? I baked them for you myself."

Buffy was a little startled by what the other girl had just said. It wasn't often that anyone did anything for her. "Thank you. I appreciate it."

"You'll be good as new really soon," Willow said. "A couple of days rest, and…"

"I'm going back out tonight," Buffy said. "Spike isn't dust yet, and I need to fix that." She realized with another wave of self-disgust quickly following that that thought didn't seem as wholly good as it once had, her hatred for him now tainted by the memory of his touch.

"Buffy, you can't!" Willow exclaimed. "Spike's already hurt you once, and now you're weak. You can't rush out there again."

"I have to. As long as I'm still alive and Spike's still around, I have to keep fighting him."

"He'll kill you!" Willow said.

"Maybe. But that's a chance I'm willing to take," Buffy replied. And in all honesty, part of her wished Spike would kill her. It was what she deserved now.

"Buffy, please don't," Willow begged. "I know we don't know each other very well, but I really don't want you to die."

"You'll forget me soon enough," Buffy said with a shrug.

"Don't talk like that! Buffy, please don't go after Spike alone again. Promise me you'll just stay in tonight and rest."

Buffy knew Willow wasn't going to stop asking her for a promise she couldn't give. Furthermore, she really wouldn't put it past the girl to tell Giles and have him find a way to make her stay. She glanced towards the window, seeing how close the branches of a nearby tree came. "Okay. I won't go downstairs tonight."

Willow brightened. "Good. And we'll get Spike, Buffy. He'll be dust soon."

She pushed down the part of her that rebelled at that thought. Dust was what she wanted Spike to be.

But right now, she just wanted him off her mind. He made things too confusing, made it too hard to think in black and white. "Could we maybe talk about something else?" Buffy asked.

"Of course!" Willow replied. "I doubt Spike is all that fun of a conversation topic for you… What would you like to talk about?"

Buffy gave Willow a small smile. "Why don't you tell me all about life here on the Hellmouth?"

*** *** ***

"Drusilla, as much as I enjoy the sight of your naked body, stop dancing around the room. It's giving me a headache," Angelus snapped from his reclining position on his four-poster bed.

Drusilla didn't stop her spinning and swaying. "But the stars are talking, Daddy. They're telling me all about my William's pretty new dolly."

Angelus sat up, taking interest in that. "Yeah? What are they saying, Dru?"

Drusilla turned to her sire, her eyes sparkling. "They're saying you should take her away. Spike shouldn't get presents when he's being such a naughty boy."

"No, he shouldn't," Angelus said with a grin. "So where's this girl?"

Dru clucked. "Not now, Daddy. Isn't time. Must wait for the moon to shine and light our way." She began swaying again, humming a tune to herself.

Angelus lay back against the pillows, staring up at the ceiling. He knew just the way to have a good time that night, and tormenting Spike was going to be an added bonus…

*** *** ***
 

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